


Campfire Tales

by SaddlesoapOpera



Category: Warframe
Genre: Slice of Life, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 10:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18248222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaddlesoapOpera/pseuds/SaddlesoapOpera
Summary: On a clear, starry night, a few Ostron children camp out on the edge of Cetus and talk about the mysterious and powerful creatures known as Tenno.Inspired by a classic Batman comic story that seemed perfectly suited to this adaptation ...





	Campfire Tales

Boiling Vobi butter bubbled over the rim of the clay jar, spilling fatty droplets to sizzle in the crackling campfire and staining the woodsmoke and fried meat aromas in the air with an acrid edge. Tanned, slender hands snatched up a scrap of cloth and plucked the boiling jar off the web-like golden trivet. “Ai yo, Zumo! I told you to watch it!”

Zumo wasn’t even watching his gangly brother, let alone the butter for the Harpu. He was turned away, staring up at the distant spire of the mighty and eternal Unum -- long may She nourish and watch over us all -- visible even against the deep blue of the night sky. “What do you think the Tenno are, Yiki?” he mused.

Yiki used a wooden spoon to scoop dollops of the hot butter into the waiting cups of Chimurr tea. “What a question!” he replied. “Seems utz-clear, to me!” He glanced across the campfire, where a third youth prodded at thin strips of pale tower flesh and plucked out hair-thin metallic nerves with a golden skewer as the meat cooked on a flat stone sitting in the fire. “Not so, Ayatu?”

The girl looked up from the exacting work. The firelight reflected in her dark eyes. Her long hair was held back by a tower-shell clip. “The Tenno …? Yes, clear enough.” She looked down once more, and carefully flipped over the roasting flesh. “They are simple things, blessed by the Unum.”

A few sprinkles of Balb flour had made the Harpu nice and thick; Yiki paused in his stirring despite the risk of chunky texture. “Say what, now? What makes you think THAT?”

Ayatu shrugged. “The Warrior of Glass was the Unum’s protector. Why not all of them?” Her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed as she kept up the search for nerve-wires in the meat. “Mother told me they are simple things turned magical by the Unum’s blessed Kuva. The birds and beasts became Her eyes when they took the blood. The Tenno are Her weapons. Mother said the Unum gave of Herself to other things. Glass, flames, ice, stones, sand — and those became Tenno.”

“Stones? Kruna metta!” Yiki barked a short, sharp laugh. “The Tenno aren’t just blessed stones!” He redoubled his stirring efforts, whipping the thick drinks to frothy smoothness. “They are much more than that.”

“Fine, then,” Ayatu replied with a sour frown. “If you are such a sage, tell us what YOU think they are!”

Yiki huffed. “They come from Ancient Er, surely. Remember the story from the Corr’pooz money-man in the market? He spoke about a terrible Tenno with curled horns, Mesao’vis. I’ve heard the elders speaking about the living things that used to roam Ancient Er, before the jungles choked everything else. One of them was called a _Ram_. It was bred to break down heavy doors. And it had curled horns!”

Ayatu teased out a nerve-wire and flicked it away. “So?”

“SO? So, _obviously_ , the Tenno are Ancient Er beasts that the Oro-kin trained to walk as men!”

“Hmph! How are Tenno better as a pack of Kubrow than as the Unum’s blessed?”

“That’s not … you’re … uhgh!” Yiki groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Zumo! You started this, brother! You never ask questions unless you’ve already got an answer that needs checking. What are the Tenno, hmm?” He punctuated the question with a thrust-forward cup of Harpu.

The youngest of the trio took the cup and blew across the surface before taking a sip. It left a foamy moustache on his upper lip, which he wiped off with the back of his free hand. “I … I think they’re ghosts.”

The other two stared for a long, silent moment before Yiki spoke up: “Ghosts?”

Zumo took another sip, now back to staring up at the distant Unum. “They use old weapons, not tech -- bows and swords and boomsticks. And every story we hear is about them fighting. About what terrible foes they are. I think they are fierce, angry ghosts from long, long ago. Soldiers who died in wars, maybe. And fighting is all they are, now.”

Ayatu had laid out the cooked tower flesh on the remaining broad Bomba leaves not used for brewing the Chimurr. She handed the lad one of the meat-topped leaves. “That’s a sad thought. I guess we’ll never know the real answer, though.”

_“Don’t be so sure of that.”_

A sleek, thin-limbed figure stood just past the edge of the firelight, his eyes gleaming blue-white like the stars above. “If you wish to know about the Tenno, all you need to do is ask one!” As he stepped forward, swirling motes of Void essence swarmed around him, and with a flash the youth was replaced by a densely muscled, faceless warrior, with greyish skin like supple metal and a razor-edged Skana sheathed on his hip. 

The three Ostron children stared at the surprise arrival … and then burst into peals of raucous laughter.

“You’re not a REAL Tenno, Jona!” Zumo said through his giggles.

Ayatu nodded, struggling to speak through her laughter. “Yeah! You’re just one of the w-weird ... offworlders who hang around the market and … do odd jobs for Konzu!”

Yiki heaved a deep sigh, still tripped up here and there by residual chuckles. “That was a great joke, though, Surah,” he said. “You want a Harpu? Vobi butter’s still hot!”

The Excalibur slumped slightly, and shook his head no. He gave a little shrug, turned away, and then walked back out for a patrol while the children laughed and chatted and ate and drank behind him, without a care in the world.


End file.
